


Lady Killer

by orphan_account



Series: Le Garde Du Corps [1]
Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMFs, Bodyguard, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Foreign Language, Inspired by Killing Eve (TV 2018), Languages, Light Angst, Mild Language, Obsession, POV Eve Polastri, Soft Eve Polastri, Soft Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, Villanelle, somewhat dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23521663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Philanthropist, philanderer, womanizer, lady-killer, whichever name came to mind she had most likely been called at some point or another; whether its plastered along newspaper headlines or spoken spitefully by a past lover, Eve had heard and seen them all. She would adamantly decline to make any comment or voice any opinion about the labels and names, how deep down she knew each one was hollow, how the person they were directed towards was only a projection, a form of defence to protect the vulnerability she knew was buried under layers and layers of sarcasm and narcissism. How she knew Villanelle, Oksana had spent years crafting this image for herself, one that appeared impenetrable and uncaring for those around her.She would continue to leave her opinions and thoughts unspoken until her dying breath, not only as she kept telling herself it came with the job, to stay silent, don’t get attached, not to jeopardise the reason for which she was here in the first place, to protect Oksana Astankova.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Series: Le Garde Du Corps [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701937
Comments: 6
Kudos: 92





	1. A F*cked Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Heiress & The Bodyguard](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20510462) by [lostgirl966](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostgirl966/pseuds/lostgirl966). 



The rain beat down on the street outside, the sky becoming alight by the crackle of thunder and lightning. Eve had expected this oncoming slaughter of weather, it was all the news outlets had been talking about for the last couple of weeks, storm Phoebe being plastered along news headlines and article headings.

She sat on the settee, her legs tucked underneath herself as she sipped from a warm mug, cocooned in the warm blankets she had draped over her upper body. She watched as the pictures on the television dimly illuminated the dark room, having left only a lamp turned on, enough to light the path to the door and kitchenette, leaving the rest of the room shrouded in shadows. While she had tried to engage with what the characters were saying on TV, a show she was trying to catch up on, her mind wandered back to the figure that still plagued her even after having clocked off for the weekend only two days prior, the small bit of rest bite she was allocated each week.

After taking the job as Villanelle’s personal security guard she wondered if those before her had become equally obsessed with the woman, sometimes having to catch herself observing the tall, young blonde more than her surroundings. Her attempt at reprimanding her actions worked the first handful of times she had realised she was tracing the outline of Villanelle’s jaw and how even the action of talking the woman made look elegant.

Even now, as she sat in the empty town house located in a London suburb, her mind wandered to the woman, how she wondered what she was doing, what she had eaten for dinner, how her weekend had been, where she had gone, who she had talked too. It was all consuming, as if she had lost control even over her own thoughts, that even though Villanelle may not realise it, she held that power over Eve. It had enraged her at first, someone as fiercely independent as she was to become entranced over the woman she was employed to protect, yet it had warn on her over time, wearing down her defences to the point where each night she would go to sleep thinking of her.

She wouldn’t admit it, or at least she tried to push the fact away that part of her was gleeful for the time she spent around her, whether it was traipsing along to a shopping spree she suddenly decided to go on or partying in an obnoxiously packed and loud club that only grated on Eve’s nerves. There were times she wondered if Villanelle deliberately chose these sporadic trips just to annoy her, to see how far she could push before Eve either broke or left. She also wondered if she was delusional to be having thoughts such as this, to think Villanelle would even care enough to take the time to specifically annoy her.

She knew the track record the woman had, she’d spent weeks researching her and scrutinising over the files she had been given by Konstantin upon her employment, finding out as much information as she could. She told herself it was because she wanted to be prepared, ready for whatever the woman through at her, yet there was that voice at the back of her head, the one she tried to ignore above anything else, the one that told her it wasn’t just because she wanted to be prepared, the one that said she saw something in the woman the first day she locked eyes with her. How it felt as if she were a puzzle that was impossible to decipher, that you could spend years studying and analysing yet never fully understand.

Even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself, deep down part of her knew this research and growing obsession had been the final nail in the coffin of her crumbling Marriage. How Nikos final words had stuck in her mind like thorns.

* * *

_“I know how much your work means to you, but you have to see what this is doing to you…” to us._

He trailed off then, looking at Eve meaningfully, hoping she was able to understand what he wanted to say.

_“Ok…”_

He sighed tiredly, bringing his hand up to rub against his temple before laying it back down on the kitchen table.

_“Ever since you took this job…”_

He stopped then, the words feeling as if they didn’t sit right.

_“I know you think you’ve tried and that we can carry on as we are, but I can’t anymore, and I think deep down you know that.”_

She still remembers the emotions that had flitted through her upon hearing those words, how she had felt grief, anger, sadness and then ultimately nothing, having entered a state of indifference. Part of her wondered what had hurt more, Niko finally admitting what had been left unspoken for weeks, months even, or the fact that she felt nothing.

_“Niko…”_

She knew that there should have been something that surfaced, that she should have said anything in an attempt to salvage their marriage, yet no words had come, no reasoning or argument in an attempt to make him stay.

He had shaken his head after a beat, realising Eve had nothing to say, beginning to chuckle almost ironically.

_“This is what I mean, you don’t talk to me anymore—“_

She tried to cut him off.

_“I do—“_

_“No, you don’t… I’m sorry Eve but I can’t be in a relationship with someone that can’t or doesn’t even want to try and talk to me, I think we both know I deserve more than that.”_

And she did, she knew he deserved more, more than someone that had become transfixed by the woman she was employed to protect.

_“I’ll… I’ll call you in a couple of days and we can discuss what to do about the house and… and everything else.”_

He had risen from his chair then, pulling the jacket that had rested along its back as he did so, sliding his arms into its sleeves as it came to rest on his shoulders. He leant over the chair, swiping his keys of the kitchen table, he looked up at Eve then, their eyes connecting, he smiled ruefully at her one last time, before turning and beginning to make his way out of the room.

_“Niko, I… I’m sorry.”_

He stopped in the door frame, briefly turning back to look at Eve.

_“I know.”_

* * *

They’d filed for divorce months ago now, having sat down and discussed terms and conditions over an arranged location and time over the phone. They had agreed Eve could keep the house, Niko saying that he had arranged staying at a friends for a couple of nights until he could find somewhere to rent.

Eve would have been lying if she said she wasn’t relieved, even with the memories that came with keeping a hold of the property she still loved the place, even if it felt unnervingly empty now. They had discussed what to do with their joint accounts and Nikos possessions, continuing on to say they would withdraw whatever they had put into each account and request for them to be closed. Niko going on to say he would come and collect what was his in a couple of days and rent a storage unit until he found something more permanent.

After this discussion it felt as if everything had whirl winded around her, Niko coming to collect his belongings, their accounts being closed and ultimately the letter confirming they had filed for divorce and the one that came weeks after, finalising the whole ordeal.

Yet even now, as she sat in an empty house, she felt little pain over Nikos absence, that their marriage had crumbled due to her own actions and the fact that what hurt her more than him leaving had been how even now, she still felt indifferent. How she had always known it was going to come to this, since the day she typed Villanelle into the search engine and clicked on the first image result, part of her had known, deep down, even if she herself hadn’t been aware of it, she knew it was only a matter of time before this day came.

It had been the first day she actually met her, Villanelle, when their eyes had connected and the intensity that came with it, what she had seen in them, cat like, alert and smouldering, how that intensity seemed to rise from her very core and appeared to consume anything she laid eyes upon. Even if she was unaware of the fact, deep down it cemented what she had seen in all of the images she scrutinised over, how Villanelle was someone she wanted to figure out, to decipher and learn.

Eve sighed tiredly as the rain and thunder continued outside, placing her now cold and near empty mug on the coffee table in front of the now blank TV, having payed little attention to the show that was playing. Groaning loudly to herself she sunk further into the cushions, her heading falling back. She stared up at the ceiling, her eyes unblinking as she traced the imperfections littered within the plaster.

“I’m so fucked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you enjoyed reading! I highly recommened going and checking out the work in-which this one is based, as it was originally what ignited the inspiration that burned into this story. 
> 
> Anyone spot the small easter egg in this chapter ;)
> 
> I thank those of you that took the time to read this story and any of you that posted any feedback, as it helps fuel this story and any future work.


	2. Stupid Eve Polastri

“I do not need another bodyguard.”

Villanelle slouched in the chair, her arms crossed over her chest as she pouted, yet again reminding Konstantin of a petulant child.

“We have discussed this Villanelle.”

He knew if it truly came down to it, she would be able to protect herself, though he would never admit it, mainly due to how it would only course to inflate her already disproportionate ego.

“Yes, you cannot be left alone Villanelle, what if something were to happen to you Villanelle, we must keep up appearances Villanelle.”

She said in imitation of Konstantin’s voice, her facial features morphing into a stern glare that matched his own.

“You know I do not need one.”

He sighed tiredly; Irina would have been easier to persuade than Villanelle.

“Do you wish for there to be another story these papers get a hold of, that Oksana Astankova believes she is above needing protection.”

She continued to glower at him.

“I am.”

Was the muttered, puerile response.

“You have damaged this company’s reputation enough, the board do not want more discrepancies, they want you to behave—"

“I am always good.”

“They want you to stay in line, if you do not, they will send someone.”

They stared at one another for a beat or two.

“Give me a slap on the wrist? I would much prefer it somewhere else; the previous one was so… vanilla.”

Villanelle raised an eyebrow at him suggestively.

“They would not make the same mistake again.”

She puffed her cheeks up, letting out a long, drawn out breath, her head falling onto the back of the chair.

“Must I bring up Anna?”

That caused her to stop, her head whipped up, a fierce glare taking over her features as Konstantin looked at her amusedly, a light smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Do not say her name.”

“Would you prefer to have a minder?”

Villanelle continued to stare at him belligerently.

“It is either a bodyguard or that they send someone.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“You are so boring Konstantin; you ruin all of my fun.”

He continued to look at her blankly.

“Fine, but I will choose.”

She said pointedly, raising her hand to point a finger at him theatrically. Konstantin sighed tiredly, leaning back in his chair.

“It is pointless in me trying to dissuade you, yes?”

“Yep.”

Popping the p at the end.

“I will make enquires and send you their files.”

A sickeningly sweet smile took over Villanelles features as she rose from the chair, striding around the desk in quick succession to place a wet kiss against his cheek.

“Thank you, Konstantin.”

She spoke in a singsong tone, beginning to hum delightedly to herself as she made her way out of his office. He shook his head as the door shut behind her, beginning to focus back on the papers that were strewn in-front of him, god help whoever she chose.

* * *

It was nearing six months to the day since her conversation with Konstantin, having dropped Eve Polastri’s file on his desk a week later, with a glint in her eyes and a bright smile plastered across her lips. He had eyed her warily for a moment as she’d stood, watching him expectantly, before he eventually relented, a phone call coming days later saying she could expect to meet the woman come the next week.

Eve had been everything she had expected and more, her hair crafted into a tight pony tail that rested behind her head, how even then she could notice the curls that fought against her hair being done up, confined, part of Villanelle had wanted to stand and pull the hair ties out and let Eves hair fall along her shoulders.

It wasn’t just Eves appearance, or her hair, that had drawn Villanelle in, or at least it was only part of it. It was what she saw in the woman’s eyes, how their dark shade of brown had appeared almost black as she’d sat down on the opposite side of the table. How their darkness had almost mirrored what she felt, matching the ferocity that coiled beneath the surface of her carefully crafted façade.

She quickly tuned out Konstantin’s incessant voice as he’d begun to fire off various questions about the woman, such as what she was comfortable with, what her opinions were on certain matters, things that weren’t written down in her file. These didn’t matter to Villanelle, she was absorbed in concentrating on the way Eves jaw moved as she spoke, how her brows creased and smoothed depending on what questions she was being asked, the way the woman’s eyes had remained dark, swirling pools that Villanelle wanted to drown herself in.

It was after they’d all risen, signifying the end of the meeting and Konstantin’s departure from the room that Villanelle had stopped in the doorway, turning back to look at Eve. She observed as the woman began to pick up her belongings, coming to sling her bag over her shoulder as she began to fiddle with the loose curls that had escaped her tight pony tail, tucking them back in as best she could.

“Wear it down.”

Eve had looked up at her then, confusion pooling in her eyes as Villanelle turned and left the room, a small smile beginning to tug at the corners of her lips.

* * *

Villanelle was strewn across the soft sheets of her bed, staring up at the ceiling of her London apartment. Her mind wandered back to Eve, as it seemed to do continuously since the day they first met, she wondered what she was doing, if she had bathed or showered before bed, what she was wearing. She hated the time the weekends rolled around, where she would have to wait till the coming week to see Eve again. She used to love the weekends, the clubs and bars staying open for hours on end, the carefree people that came to them in droves, yet now they were the worst part of her week.

Eve was on a five-day router, she would swap with a woman called Elena for the weekend and Villanelle was pretty sure Elena hated her guts, especially if their first interaction had been anything to go by. Villanelles blatant flirting and advances being stone walled to the point where she would only speak to Villanelle out of necessity. And the fact that she had caught Eve and Elena laughing and joking with one another when they met to change shifts, their closeness had only seemed to make her blood run hot and her nostrils flare. Villanelle barging between the two by declaring she wanted to go out shopping, waiting impatiently for Eve to catch up.

The body next to her began to stir, Villanelles gaze moving to watch as the curly haired woman shifted as she slept. She had her back to Villanelle, her dark curls cascading down her bare back. She turned to lay on her side, bringing her hand up to trace along the woman’s back, before coming to combe through her hair.

Stupid Eve Polastri, she made Villanelle like this, it was all her fault, with her amazing hair. She was the reason this woman was in her bed, the reason she went out on day long benders and exuberant shopping trips. It was all Eve’s fault, why did she have to stand just out of reach, observing her surroundings when she should have been observing Villanelle, had she not done enough to rile the other woman up? Wearing form fitting pantsuits and dresses that accentuated her features, taking Eve to clubs and bars, dancing with other women, pulling them tightly to her body, taking them back to her apartment, had this not been enough to make Eve jealous? What else must she do to make the older woman notice.

Villanelle sighed tiredly, flopping onto her back with a disgruntled sigh, coming to stare up at the ceiling above her yet again. The woman next to her stirred again, turning over to face Villanelle, coming to sling an arm over the blonde’s stomach.

“Villanelle.”

She muttered tiredly, causing the young woman to role her eyes and place an arm around the curly haired woman, causing her to sigh tiredly and nuzzle into the crook of Vilanelles neck, only electing another bored eye role from the blonde.

Stupid Eve Polastri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hype for S3! May have scrapped my original posting plan for the chapters, so you can expect one every other day!
> 
> Next chapter was easily the most enjoyable to write, so look out for it.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Any feedback is greatly appreciated.


	3. Angry Baby

The rain had stopped sometime during the night, the clouds clearing to reveal a blue sky and bright sun that was beginning to dry the damp ground. The kettle begun to whistle, signifying it was near complete boiling the water. Eve turned to take the pre-prepared Thermus that stood on the countertop, moving to stand in front of the kettle as its whistle reached its peak, the satisfying click sounding, having completed its boiling process. She took the kitchen tool, pouring warm water into the silver container until it was near the top before placing it back on its holder. Taking a teaspoon out of the draw she began to stir the contents of the Thermus, watching as the teabag slowly rose to the surface. Eventually pulling it out and dumping it into the bin located to the side of the kitchen cabinets before dumping the utensil in the kitchen sink in a similar manor.

She took the Thermoses lid from where it rested on the countertop, screwing it onto the top of the cylindrical container before walking over to her bag that rested on the kitchen table and placing it into the bag, tightly packed in one of its corners, pushing against the other objects that were littered within. Sighing she looked over at the clock on the kitchen wall, seven zero five being displayed by its three hands. The car would be here in a couple of minutes to take her to Villanelles apartment, a half hour drive before she would reach the woman’s place.

As she thought about the journey her mind began to wander back to its occupant, Villanelle, she’d almost been proud of herself this morning, having managed to run on autopilot through her morning routine, managing to keep any thoughts of the young woman at bay, a forty minute record. But of course, she would be drawn to think about her, it was inevitable, she had just hoped it would’ve been possible to keep any of those thoughts at bay until she’d reached her apartment, or at least half way through the car journey.

Overall, it hadn’t been the most difficult weekend she’d had since becoming Villanelles personal security guard, at least she managed to keep any urges to look up the woman’s name at bay, which for her may have been another record. The doorbell rang a couple of minutes later, spurring Eve on to temporarily clear her thoughts the best she could, grabbing her bag off the kitchen table and keys on the way, she sighed as she stepped out of the house, shutting the door behind her. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Villanelle hummed to herself as she made her way through the apartment’s kitchen, floating between various cupboards, a stove and fridge, taking various ingredients and utensils out of each one. She poured some of the now open honey pots contents into the pan, hearing the satisfying sizzle as it begun to melt into the already cooking sausages. She stuck her index finger into the honey pot, swirling it around before sticking it into her mouth, disregarding the glass container and refocusing on the food that was frying.

Villanelle leant over to the radio that was playing to the side of the stove, turning the volume up on the music that filtered from its speakers, beginning to sing along to it.

“Il mio nome, non pronunciarlo più per favor.”

She flipped the sausages over, their aroma filling the kitchenette like a thick smog.

“Il tuo nome, l'ho cancellato già dal mio cuor.”

Villanelle looked over to the pan placed on the hob opposite, observing that the bread had become a crisp, golden colour.

“E va tu sei libero, e va ma ricordati, che come me un di, tu, soffrirai cosi.”

Grasping the pans handle, she spun around, turning the hob it had been resting on off in one fluid motion. She stepped towards the countertop that jutted out from the wall, forming an L shape; taking the tongs out of a cylindrical container that rested on the countertop, she placed each slice of bread on its own separate plate, enough for two.

“E va ma il mio nome, sulle tue labbra ancor tornerà.”

Pushing the now empty pan to the side, tongs rested on top, she went back to the sausages that had now absorbed the golden coloured honey. Similarly, to the bread, Villanelle pulled the pan off, turning the hob of as she did so, moving to dish the sausages up onto each plate.

“E il tuo cuore, sicuramente mi cercherà.”

It was as she finished pushing the contents of the pan onto their respective plates and shoved the now empty cooking utensil to the side that she noticed she was no longer alone.

“Ma no non illuderti, che io possa attenderti—”

Villanelle stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes meeting that of the woman she’d shared a bed with only the previous night, drawing a blank as to her name.

“You made breakfast.”

Villanelle watched as the other woman’s eyes brightened, a soft smile beginning to pull at the corners of her lips, she rolled her eyes.

“Nope.”

Was the simple reply, as Villanelle turned her back on the woman, moving fluidly to turn the radios volume up even more.

“E se te ne vai da me, no non tornare più—”

Just as she was moving onto the new chorus the door to the apartment opened, a confused looking Eve stepping over the threshold, right on time.

“Eve!”

Villanelle exclaimed excitedly.

“I made breakfast.”

Almost shouting over the blearing music.

Eve looked to Villanelle, a slight scowl on her features as she moved to turn the music down, watching Villanelle stick her bottom lip out in a mock-pout as she turned away from the radio. It wasn’t until Eve had her back to the kitchen that she finally noticed the other woman standing awkwardly in the bedroom doorway.

“Hi.”

She said nervously, raising her hand to wave meekly at Eve.

The older women whipped back around to glare at Villanelle hotly, only receiving a slight shrug from the blonde before she begun taking two glasses out of a nearby cabinet. Eve sighed tiredly to herself, it was too early for this shit; before turning back to the other woman.

“What’s your name?”

She asked politely, unable to take out the slight biting edge her words took.

“Pamela.”

It really was too early for this.

“Hi Pamela, do you want to go and get your things? I’m assuming there in the bedroom.”

Eve watched as the woman looked between herself and Villanelle, seeming as if she was on the brink of saying something before quietly nodding, turning around and heading back into the bedroom. Eve brought her hand up to rub against her temple, it hadn’t even been 2 minutes since she’d stepped into Villanelles apartment.

“Every time, every single time.”

She muttered to herself

“Eve?”

Villanelle enquired, her voice floating from the kitchen.

“Is this what you get off on? Not fucking them but watching me have to shuffle them out of your apartment like I’m your minder, I’m supposed to be your bodyguard, not your god damn babysitter!”

She whirled around, each word coming out louder than the last, she felt her hands sting as they formed fists either side of her, fingernails digging into soft palms.

“Angry baby today.”

Villanelle said softly, her eyes gleaming, her tongue briefly wetting her lips as she continued to pin her blazing gaze on Eve. She was this close to walking out, this close to stalking back to the foyer and not looking back, but she knew that would have given Villanelle the satisfaction of watching her leave and she would rather jump right off the balcony than let her have that.

“We are going to talk; we are going to have whatever this thing between you and me is out before the end of today or so help me god I will—”

“What, stab me Eve?”

If it came down to that then yes, Eve thought darkly. Shaking her head, she turned back towards the bedroom, watching as the woman, Pamela came out a handful of seconds later. She looked as if someone had just told her their pet had died with how white her skin had become, having clearly heard the conversation between Eve and Villanelle.

“Sorry about that, is that everything?”

She asked, watching as Pamela nodded skittishly, Eve turned back towards the apartment’s door, her eyes quickly catching Villanelles as she did so, fixing the blonde with a harsh glare before turning to finally open the door. As Eve watched her hastily make her exit Villanelles sickeningly sweet voice blared from the kitchen.

“Call me!”

She was going to kill her, she really was, Eve thought, slamming the door shut behind Pamela, spinning around on her heels to stare at Villanelle who had now moved to the table located only a couple of feet away from the kitchen, having now placed two plates and glasses of orange juice on top. She watched as Villanelle happily tucked into her breakfast, seeming to inhale each forkful she took.

“Are you going to join me Eve?”

Villanelle asked flippantly, her head cocking to the side to briefly look at Eve. She’d have been lying if she said the food didn’t smell incredible, the aromas that were circling around the room finally sinking in. Fuck it she thought, striding over to the table and sitting down, beginning to cut away at the now lukewarm breakfast, eating it in forkfuls, but even then, she would have had trouble denying how it tasted. She had to supress a slight moan at how the tastes swirled around her mouth, taking a rather large swig of orange juice to help muffle it and she would have had to be blind to not see the knowing smirk that tugged at Villanelles lips and god if it didn’t make her want to murder the woman even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Easily the one I had the most fun writing and editing.
> 
> Not Long until S3!
> 
> Any feedback is greatly appreciated.


	4. Do You Love Me?

It had been yet another long day of traipsing along behind Villanelle as she dove in and out of various boutiques and jewellery stores, Eve had lost count of how many they’d visited come evening, only knowing that three of the building staff had to be employed to help carry all of Villanelles bags back up to her room. She was dimly aware of the fact that the blonde was moving around in the bedroom, hearing the sound of cabinet and cupboard draws open and close.

Her mind had been playing the mornings events on repeat all day, it didn’t help that the very woman that had made her so riled up had been within only feet of her for such as prolonged time, this being the most notable time she had been left with her thoughts rather than having to rifle through the intoxicating smell of Villanelles signature perfume combined with the blondes presence.

It was tiring, exhausting being around her for this long and she had yet another four days to get through before she was able to take a break, one that would only allow her to prepare for the coming week rather than sort through the thoughts that plagued her each hour of each passing day.

She still remembers the first day she was let into Villanelles apartment and how it seemed to only reinforce what she thought about her, it wasn’t starkly modern like all of the new builds and refurbished ones, it was rifled with old wooden antiques and vintage furniture, pale, pastel colours rather than bright exuberant ones that were almost blinding. It was strange how calming the place felt, how someone so bright and in your face as Villanelle would choose to live in a place that felt warm, homely even. She wondered if that was part of why she had fallen even further into her own obsession with her, been even more intrigued with discovering what made her tick, what drove her to act the way she did.

Even now, after months of working to protect her, Eve still felt as if she knew nothing about her, Oksana Astankova. She knew Villanelle and Oksana were different, they may be one in the same, but their contrast was deep and sobering. She only knew titbits about Villanelles past, minor things she would mutter in Russian that Eve would focus on committing to memory to search at a later date or small pieces of information she would pick up from the conversations she had witnessed between Konstantin and Villanelle. She wondered if even knowing who Oksana was would quench the desire to know who Villanelle was, wondered if she did know everything about her, would that really stop the all-consuming feel that had buried itself beneath her skin, would anything be able to stop it?

She was only aware of the fact that Villanelle had entered the room when she turned her gaze to look out of the doors that lead to the balcony, she looked at her for a moment, studying the way her shoulders moved as she breathed.

“How long have you been standing there?”

Eve watched as Villanelle shrugged, moving to sit on the settee opposite the chair she was sat in.

“Not long.”

It was a simple response, but Eve knew it was a lie.

“Did you sort through all your new clothes?”

Villanelle hummed in response; Eve took it as an affirmation. It was a beat or two before either of them said anything, letting the silence settle between them.

“You said you wanted to talk.”

Eve almost wanted to laugh, that they were going to do this now.

“Yes.”

Really, Eve thought, can’t come up with anything better than that? She watched as Villanelle looked at her expectantly, the young women’s features dimly illuminated by the lamps that were dotted around the room.

“I… I can’t do this anymore.”

Come on Eve, she thought, you can do better than that.

“I can’t keep clearing up after you, arriving to find someone that I’m expected to deal with and send on their merry way.”

She stayed silent after that, willing, wanting Villanelle to respond, at least acknowledge she heard what Eve was saying.

“Is that it?”

“No.”

Because it wasn’t was it?

“I… You destroyed my marriage.”

She didn’t. Villanelle snorted, making Eve look at her.

“Eve, is ignorance bliss?”

“Fuck you.”

She knew it wasn’t true, the moment she had said it, but she wanted something, anything from Villanelle and god if that didn’t make her feel pathetic.

“You… I have nothing anymore, a friend I barely see and a house that makes me go stir-crazy, I only have this.” _I only have you._

She wonders if Villanelle understands, wants to laugh at herself for thinking that because of course she does doesn’t she, Villanelle has understood since the day their eyes connected.

“Would you like a pat on the back?”

And that, that makes her want to scream, because why did she think Villanelle would be supportive, maybe she’s been deluding herself from the very beginning, maybe Villanelle never understood. Eve stood then, shaking her head tiredly, because she was done, she was done living in an empty house for months on end, the only light at the end of her tunnel being her, discovering that even that may have been a lie.

She made to walk towards the door and leave, finally close the door on this, whatever this was, begin afresh and figure out truly what she wanted, who she even was anymore. As she passed by Villanelle a hand shot out from where she sat, delicate fingers coming to wrap around Eve’s wrist, pulling her back, her gaze coming to connect with Villanelles, however involuntary. And she swore the blood in her body had stopped pumping, that her entire being had frozen. Villanelles eyes were dark, darker than she had ever seen, they appeared black, all empowering and consuming, they would have put the night sky to shame. She wondered if this was what she had seen in all of those images, what she saw on a weekly basis, what she knew was underneath Villanelle, a dark, consuming creature that even the woman herself didn’t want to acknowledge, one she had pushed away from, Oksana.

“I understand.”

It was quiet, almost a whisper, she wouldn’t have heard it if she hadn’t been listening in rapt attention. 

“I want you.”

Eve swore she stopped breathing, the desires she had buried and hid, even from herself, were being voiced, that they only coursed to drag what she had hidden from to the surface.

“And only you.”

That was when she wanted to laugh.

“So, what was this morning?”

Deep down she knew, even if she didn’t want to acknowledge it. Villanelle continued to stare up at her, fixated on Eve, and she loosely wondered if she looked like Villanelle, if her own eyes mirrored what she saw in her, Oksana.

“Sit.”

Eve wasn’t aware of herself even moving until Villanelles words had sunk in, realising she was now sat down next to the woman.

“Stay.”

Eve wondered if the person before she had met Villanelle would have gotten up and walked out and not looked back, wondered if she would have gone home to her safe and stable home, to safe and stable Niko. But she wasn’t that Eve, hadn’t been for months, so she sat, staring at the woman that had consumed every inch of her, the woman that held a power over Eve she may not even realise. She was dimly aware of the hand that had been holding her wrist coming up to cup the side of Eve’s face, unconsciously leaning into the woman’s touch.

“Beautiful.”

Before Eve could fully acknowledge the whispered word Villanelle had leant forwards, her lips connecting with Eve’s and she swore her body felt as if it was on fire, her nerve endings felt as if they had been lit with a match and this time she really was sure that her blood had stopped pumping around her body.

Her eyes fluttered close, savouring the sensation of Villanelles soft lips against her own, how the woman sighed when Eve began to reciprocate. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, sharing the same air. When they finally broke apart Eve was dimly aware that her arms had wound around Villanelles neck, the other woman’s arms having moved to cradle Eves upper body, holding her against her.

Their foreheads were pressed together as they both began to regain their breath.

“Do you love me Eve?”

Did she love Villanelle? Hell, she wasn’t even sure what that word meant anymore, she’d thought she knew what love was when she had met Niko, that love is something you build with someone, that it needs time to craft and mould. But the first day she had met Villanelle, Oksana, everything she knew had been put into questioning, how she was consumed by the woman, the fact that a single look could course to send shivers down her spine and her blood to run hot. The truth was Eve didn’t know what love meant anymore and if she had ever even loved in the first place, only the hard fact being that if what she felt was love, this all-consuming, head to toe exhilarating and at the same time terrifying emotion that made her feel as if electricity bolted throughout her body each time she saw Villanelle, then yes, Eve was in love with her.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

She was Villanelles and Oksana Astankova was hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S3 is finally here! And so Eve and Villanelle are finally back on our screens!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this story and that reading it provided a small piece of solace while we all wait for the next episode.


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